


The Last Chord

by Attaya



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Coran is Allura (Voltron)'s Uncle, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gay Keith (Voltron), Human Allura (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, M/M, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Minor Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Orphan Keith (Voltron), POV Keith (Voltron), Sassy Pidge | Katie Holt, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Space Mom Allura (Voltron), Space Uncle Coran (Voltron), Teacher Coran (Voltron), klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 04:32:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14609397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attaya/pseuds/Attaya
Summary: Keith has always been a fan of music, it was one of the few things his parents really left him with. So whos to say will happen when Shiro forces Keith to actually finish his high school career, you know, in school.Lance has been a part of the school band since 6th grade, he's moved from instrument to instrument never really wanting to stick with one or another. That is until the new kid shows up.





	The Last Chord

**Author's Note:**

> First fic so please bear with me ((:  
> Watching over you - Kari Kimmel > The song Keith was playing 
> 
> I really love the idea of a band au so here we are lol, hopefully, you guys enjoy it and it's not horrible (:
> 
> AHH and please excuse my sorry excuse for a summary, I suck at those

And it starts.

Keith can hear the piano build, he can practically imagine the pianist fingers moving as if they were his own. Slow, Steady. The rhythm moves in time with his own heartbeat, the hum of a single chord creating all the groundwork for the piece that follows. It’s not long before the drummer joins in, Keith can feel it pierce deep into his bones, grounding him. The lights begin to dim, the drummer trails off into a small, subtle beat. And there she is. The singer's melody has him on edge. Almost as if he's standing on ice, terrified that even the shallowest of breaths would send him crashing into the icy water. The crowd is silent, Keith wonders if they've stopped breathing too.

Before Keith knows it, it's his cue. "Shit!" he mumbles as he scrambles onto the stage.

Everything comes to life, the drummer and the pianist's hands are flying. Moving so fast that Keith can barely believe the same two people were playing so gently just seconds before. The pair lock eyes, grinning as the songs momentum peaks. And Keith's right there, in the middle of it all. It was moments like right now, being on stage, giving his body up to the music, that always had him reeling back in time.

And he loves it; like _really_ loves it. He has ever since he was a kid, back when his parents were still around.

Music was all over his house back then. The best was after Dad would come home from a rough day at work. His Mom would give him the silliest smile, and next thing he knew, he'd be running around the living room hand in hand with his Mom singing along to Dad's favorite songs. Keith would be grinning from ear to ear, watching as his Father's posture straightened. Almost as if the makeshift concert Keith and his mother put on had breathed life into him. Always ending up crushed into his dads embrace, as the newly revived man joined the show. Dancing around the room with Keith trapped in his arms, his deep voice rumbling through his chest.

Keith could almost bet that he had the stupidest smile plastered on his face. And honestly? He could care less. It was addicting.

Ever since his parents passed away music's been Keith's way of coping. Music made him _feel_. The way the crowd roared, the sweat soaking his hair, the lights; it drowned all the demons. It devoured the numbness from his flesh, draining the anger from his veins. Music gave Keith a way to feel alive when all he wanted was to sink into the darkness that consumed him.

———

Juniberry avenue is as lively as ever. The streets are known for the shops that line the road. From cafes to antique shops, it's the type of place you’d expect to see in some cliché teen movie. And, as per Keith's luck, it just so happens to have Shiro's favorite coffee shop. Great.

**Shiro** :  
>are you on your way?? If you think you can just “pretend” to sleep in again, I’ll come over there myself and drag you out!

“Speak of the devil” Keith slumps.

**Keith** :  
>I didn’t _preten_ d to sleep in! I actually did. And yes, I’m on my way.  
Keith shoves his phone back into his pocket. If there’s one thing Shiro's amazing at, its nagging.

Keith prefers to be on time, but whenever it comes to plans with Shiro, he can’t help but act a little spoiled. He looks around for a distraction, and a distraction he finds. One of the smaller shops, a cafe popular with older folks, has brought out an old keyboard. Keith grins.

If he’s being honest, Keith’s favorite instrument is by far, (and will always be) the guitar. But there’s something about pianos that always draws him to them. Especially pianos on the side of the road. Pianos that he totally should not play.

He pauses. He Can dawdle for a couple minutes, right? Shiro won’t _totally_ kill him.

Keith walks over to the piano. It’s taller and skinnier than it looked from across the street. The sides and back are cracked, painted with what Keith assumes had been a vibrant purple. He trails his hand over the worn out keys. A smile plays on his lips. He sits down and begins to fiddle with the keys.

Old instruments were the best. The years played on them, mixed with the not so amazing upkeep, resulted in their own sound. Completely unique to them. Keith had always been fascinated by it. Each one had their own story to tell, one that Keith was very eager to dive into.

He starts slow, playing small portions of songs he’d been taught. There’s an off note here and there, but it only adds to the pianos tale. Keith drifts off, closing his eyes to wonder about the people that played it before. He imagines a tall man, with a mop of unruly hair, head bobbing along with the odd song his long fingers played. He pictures little kids running by, slamming their hands on the keys only to end up toppled over in laughter from the outrageous sound the piano would screech back. Then an older woman, a grandfather, a mother.

Keith opens his eyes, a few people have gathered around.

By all means, Keith hated having the attention on him. He preferred to watch and observe. But the more he played, the more confident he grew. The melodies fought the shy parts of him off, sending them to be long forgotten under the notes his fingers played.

“...I’m watching over you…” a voice hums.

Keith lifts his head. He hadn’t noticed the boy walk up. Their eyes meet. Keith hadn’t even realized he was staring at The boy In blue until he smirks, turning around. It takes less than a moment for the stranger to harmonize with Keith.

In all honesty, Keith’s kind of surprised. The song he’d been playing wasn't one people usually knew. But the boy sure as hell did - so not only was he totally hot but he could damn well sing too.

Keith can’t help but laugh, the situations almost too good to be true. Correct that it _is_ too good to be true. The only time Keith’s seen two complete strangers pull off a duet like _this_ was online. The first would start playing almost nonchalantly, and before you knew it the second would join in. Sometimes the second stranger would be dancing along to the melody, other times they’d join them with their own instrument or voice.

As much as he couldn’t believe it, it sure as hell was happening. Keith’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, and he was 90% sure his body temperature was starting to get to lethal levels.

The boy in blue was giving Keith a run for his money. That much he was sure of.

The song came to an end, and with that so did Keith’s confidence. He hadn’t realized just _how_ many people had stopped to watch, and the reality of it was starting to hit. He could feel the strength drain from his legs, his breathing was becoming uneven, and the burning heat that had filled his body was quickly being replaced with a cold chill. He needed to leave. _Now_.

——

Free from the crowd, and beginning to get control of his body again Keith looks at his phone - shit. His little adventure had turned into more of a “Shiro's totally thought of at least 10 different ways I was either kidnaped or murdered” kind of moment.

“I’m so dead.”

——

The crowd has formed a circle around the old piano when lance turns to look for the other boy. He's gone. “Oh…” lance lowers his gaze, pushing out of the crowd. He’d thought the boy would have stuck around.

When Lance had first noticed the music he hadn't thought much of it, but as he got closer he’d recognized the song. He laughed to himself, who would've thought that it'd be the same song his mom used to sing when he was little. As he neared the source he stole a glance at the boy that was playing. His hair was dark, and messy, curling around the boy's neck. Lances breath had hitched when the boy raised his head - his eyes, they were...purple? To say lance was intrigued would be an understatement.

The boy was beautiful. But damn did it suck that he’d disappeared.


End file.
